


The shortest distance is a curve

by Measured_Words



Category: Lovecraft Country (TV)
Genre: Air travel, Airplanes, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:34:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28124703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured_Words/pseuds/Measured_Words
Summary: Ji-Ah travels to America to find Atticus.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	The shortest distance is a curve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amber](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber/gifts).



"I will pay the price for my daughter," her Omma had said.

And now she was dead. Dead like Young-Ja. Gone like Atticus.

Ji-Ah was alone, and she felt empty. Was this what it was to enter the darkness? 

She didn't know what it would mean now, if she took her hundredth soul. Would she become human still, as her mother had once hoped? That seemed worse – to be human and alone. Humans were meant to feel things. She could simply go on this way forever.

There was still a need for nurses after the war. She was competent, but the job, like everything else, felt hollow. It was a thing to do, and a way of being in the world. It was how she had met Young-Ja and Atticus, but it had yet to bring anyone else worth keeping into her life.

It was….fine. Until the phone calls started. Atticus, reaching out, but still recoiling from her. She didn't know how to process that, so she folded it into the void of her heart. It made her think of what she had seen of his death – how terrible it had been to see him helpless, and how helpless she had felt. Of course he was destined to die, he was mortal, but the pain and violence she'd witnessed seemed extreme. Ji-Ah remembered feeling frightened, and horrified, and that seemed better than what she had now.

Maybe something had happened to make him afraid, and that was why he was reaching out – but she was still more frightening.

She remembered loving him. She remembered feeling his love for her when she had seen into his life through her tails, but even the memory of the feeling felt shrouded. Her tails had not destroyed him, but they remained connected. Maybe there was some way back, through him, to the life she'd had before.

He kept calling.

Ji-Ah decided she would go to him, and tell him what he had seen. Maybe it was a pointless mortal concern, but what else did she have?

She sold her mother's house. With that, her savings, and other funds she had tucked away from the men whose souls she'd taken, it was more than enough for the trip. She could stay in America, if she wanted – or go just about anywhere else if she did not.

She took a train to Busan, and a boat across to Kitakyushu. So many of the souls she'd taken in the early days had been Japanese men, and Ji-ah could navigate her way easily through the countryside. It was not comfortable, travelling alone and knowing exactly the kinds of thoughts that lurked behind the eyes that tracked her, but she was not afraid. It was tiring, but she only had to make it to Tokyo.

From Tokyo, she took a plane. The stewardesses were young, pretty, saucy – they reminded her a little of Young-Ja. It was an American airline, and most of the other people on the plane were businessmen. The women served them, brushed off their clumsy flirting, and giggled with each other as they retreated back to their service area. She had never fit in with most of the other girls in her training school, but at least here there was no expectation of that. She watched them, unsure exactly what she was longing for. The feeling of desire felt alien.

One of them smiled as she noticed Ji-Ah's attention. Her hair was curled into a chic modern style, and the fashionable cut of her uniform was very flattering.

"Can I get you something, miss?"

Ji-Ah smiled reflexively, realizing that she'd met very few American women. "No, thank you."

"You flying out to meet someone? Husband?"

"I am trying to find someone," she answered after a moment, and the stewardess smirked.

"Just anyone, doll?'

"No… Someone I knew during the war."

"An old flame? Sounds like you're taking a bit of a leap of faith. He know you're coming?"

She shook her head. "He keeps calling me. He needs my help."

The stewardess slipped into the empty seat across from her and smiled ruefully. "Does he know that, either?"

"I think so. It's why he keeps calling."

"But you're not sure? Seems like an awful big chance, especially travelling alone. What are you gonna do if he doesn't want your help?"

"I don't know." If Atticus didn't want her, maybe it would hurt, or make her angry. She felt a twinge of something even at the thought, and it was encouraging. "You don't need to worry about me."

She smiled. "It's a long flight. I need something other than bar orders and fixing lunch to keep me occupied. I'm Suzanne by the way." Ji-Ah had read it on her name tag already, but took the hand that was offered to shake as well, remembering the American custom.

"Ji-Ah," she replied, and Suzanne's smile widened.

"That's pretty – it suits you." She was about to add something else when a soft chime rang in the cabin, indicating that she was needed elsewhere. "I'll be back," she said, slipping to her feet.

Ji-Ah watched her as she worked, refreshing a couple of drinks, providing a cigarette lighter for a couple of men a few seats forward, and gently but expertly rebuffing the advances of those who offered to take her out on the town once they landed. Listening in, Ji-Ah learned that Suzanne was staying with the plane all the way to New York City, and thus wasn't available for any dates at their stops along the way.

Suzanne came back after lunch had been served and cleared away, when other passengers were up and mingling in the cabin. Ji-Ah wasn't interested in them, but smiled faintly when the stewardess dropped back down into the seat beside her.

"Lucy said you never filled out a postcard. Usually that's what everyone does – send a note about your travels to folks back home. So it might be they're not too fond of you running off after this fellow or, and this is my guess, there's no one to send one to. Am I right?"

She felt heavy, and her smile faltered. "What makes you say that?"

"You've just got a bit of a lost look about you. Plus, I imagine if there was anyone sensible to stop you, you wouldn't be on this plane."

"My mother died", she confessed after a moment. "It was just the two of us."

"Oh, honey." Suzanne reached over and squeezed her hand. "I'm so sorry. But look – there's a whole big world out there, and lots of room for you in it, alright? No matter what this man of yours needs or doesn't."

"I don't know what a place for me would look like. I have never met anyone else like me." It was possible there were others – Kumiho or other spirits in human form – but she didn't know how she would recognize them. They might just agree with the Mudang that she should not concern herself with mortal affairs. But what else did she have?

The corners of Suzanne's lips had curled back up, and she squeezed Ji-Ah's hand again. "In this job, I meet _all_ kinds of people. I'm sure there's a lot more like you out there. Maybe even closer than you think." The pause lingered. Ji-Ah knew better than to try and explain more clearly, and let the other woman hold on to whatever assumptions she was making. "Maybe it’s the sort of thing you might enjoy, if you don't mind travelling? It can be a lot of fun, and the other girls can be like family."

"Maybe."

"Well, think about it." The chime demanding Suzanne's attention had rung again, and she hauled herself out of the seat gracefully despite the tremors of the plane. "Sounds like maybe you need help as much as your friend, and maybe you should give yourself a little thought, okay?"

JI-Ah did think about herself, but she had many questions and few answers. She didn't know whether the things she wanted were possible. She wanted to remain herself, but to feel happy and loved. Maybe Atticus could give her that, but if not – was he special? Was there no one else who could?

Suzanne stopped by a few more times over the course of the flight, trying to get her to open up some more. She told some stories of her travels. They talked about American movies and movie stars. Suzanne gave her the address of a good hotel in Chicago, and some other tips for travelling as a single woman in America. She helped her with the sleeping compartment and brought her extra tea in the morning. Most of it was a performance for Ji-Ah – the same human façade she'd worn for a long time – but there were, maybe, currents stirring beneath the surface.

It was a long flight, but a brief encounter all the same – but Ji-Ah felt less alone for part of it. As she was finally exiting the plane, Suzanne was the one who was seeing the passengers off. She pressed a card with an address written on it into Ji-Ah's hand, her professional smile softening into something more personal. "Take care, Ji-Ah, mostly of yourself, okay? Write me, if you like – send me that postcard, maybe, and tell me if you found your fella, and how things worked out."

"Thank you," she said, slipping the card into her pocket. Probably Suzanne would forget her, or she would forget about Suzanne, but it was a nice thought, at the least. If Atticus wouldn't hear her out, or accept her help…. Maybe there was a place to be made for her in the world without him.


End file.
